


One Hand in My Pocket

by KendylGirl



Category: Call Me By Your Name (2017), Call Me By Your Name (2017) RPF
Genre: Gift Giving, Hair Now, Hair later, M/M, Plans For The Future, True Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-05
Updated: 2020-01-05
Packaged: 2021-02-27 05:41:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,563
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22131955
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KendylGirl/pseuds/KendylGirl
Summary: Armie is photographed atW Magazine's Best Performances issue party, sporting an unusual coat, and he perpetually has his hand shoved into his pocket.  Here's why.
Relationships: Timothée Chalamet/Armie Hammer
Comments: 67
Kudos: 230





	One Hand in My Pocket

**Author's Note:**

> What can I say? Armie's behavior was curious enough to capture my imagination and to compel me to write this. He never ceases to inspire me!
> 
> It was the genius of LivefromG25 that uncovered the origin of the coat. She cracks at fashion, so she cracks the fashion!  
> Correction: Cheers to backofthepostcard for being the original information source; your detective skills are top-notch!
> 
> The idea to include that bit o' fashion was pure onlyastoryteller, as was the flawless memory necessary to keep straight Armie's timeline of activities.
> 
> And my continual appreciation to Willowbrooke for her keen beta skills!

The car coasts to a stop at a traffic light.Only a few more blocks to go.

It’s just like pure cashmere, so I run the lock of it under my nose, across my lips.Twirl it, feel the tickle against my skin.Shiver.Can’t help it.If I close my eyes, I can still hear his giggle in the darkness, the humidity thick from our shared breaths under the dense quilt, when I’d wrapped the strands around my fingers and pulled them to my face.

_Timmy, you’re delicious_ , I’d whispered, breathing deep the perfumed scent of him, mouthing at the back of his neck, tightening my grip on his waist. _I want to take you with me_.

I’d engineered a little detour on my way back from Saudi Arabia and would be continuing on to California, supposedly with Tyler.Tim was going to get in a cab and go to his mom’s place.

_You can take whatever you like_ , he’d murmured, grinding back against me.Luscious.Merciless. _You know you can_.

I’d groaned and clutched at him, already half hard again.Hell, I am now just thinking about it. _Oh, fuck._ I could never get enough of him.He knows it, knows fucking all of it.He knows how I am addicted to his smile, how I love hearing about his suit fittings, his latest script reads, his anything.He knows how I tell him my secrets and my fears, tell him everything, everything I’ve ever dreamed.He knows how I trust him entirely, how I’ve never trusted anyone with my whole heart before him.

But I’d said it anyway because it had been pounding steadily in my brain. _I’m so in love with you, Timmy_ …

_Yeah?_ He’d rolled over to face me then, thrust up against me, bit at my neck. _How much?_

I’d gasped.Wanted to lap at his face, to hold his wrists above his head and suck a bruise on the jut of his hip. _Can’t tell you_.

_What?_ With that open-mouthed grin, he’d thrown the blanket off our heads, static turning his hair into a cyclone, tongue gripping his left incisor. _Whhaaaaatt?_

I’d run my thumb over his bottom lip, caressed his cheek. _Can’t tell you,_ I’d repeated.

_Tell me_.He kissed my ear. _Tell me_.Softer, kissed my throat. _Tell me_.A whisper, swirled his tongue in my suprasternal notch, bit my collar bone.

_Can’t_.I had trailed my fingers down his spine, reading it like Braille. _No words for it_. 

And he’d stilled. _No?_

_None, baby, none at all_.

_Oh_.He’d raised his head, wet lips brushing the shell of my ear. _I can relate to that_.

I’d smiled into his hair. _Guess we’ll have to go to the next level_.

He’d leaned back, nose brushing mine, eyes a deep sea emerald. _What’s that?_

I’d tented my hands on each side of his head to massage his scalp, smoothing the pads of my fingers against the roots of those silken strands, tossing the perfect mess of it in rhythmic circles. _Sensation, Tim.When words fail, all we have left is sensation_.

His broken whimper could have melted iron. _Oh, fuck, Armie_.The way his jaw had slackened and his head had tossed around in wanton waves.The way he’d let his saliva drain out of the corner of his mouth as gooseflesh spread across his entire body and he’d fingered his own hard nipples.

Jesus, it makes me palm myself even now, a desperate attempt to reign myself back in, gain back some control before the car stops and the cameras start to flash.

_How can I take this with me, Tim?How can I keep this?How’m I supposed to stay sane until January?_ I’d tightened my grip on his hair, then carded through it with gentle fingers.

He’d bit his lip, and when his eyes had popped open, they were bubbling with mischief. _Got an idea_.And he’d leapt out of bed and scampered to the bathroom, miles of milky skin glowing in the suite’s dim light.I had heard a zip and some clattering before he’d returned and climbed onto my lap, pulling the quilt up behind his shoulders like a cape.

Then, he’d handed me his nail scissors. _Go ahead_.

I’d blinked. _And do what, exactly?_

_Cut it._

_Fuck off._

_Do it!_

_What the—fuck, no, I’m not cutting your hair!Are you serious?_

He’d rolled his eyes. _I didn’t say make me_ bald _, asshole.Just cut a piece, something you can_ feel _, something you carry around with you, keep in your pocket wherever you go_.

_Pocket Timmy?_

_Something like that._

I’d grinned and reached up for the perfect curl that always bisects his forehead, no matter what sorcery Jamie tries to wreak upon it. _Can I have this one?_

He’d swatted my hand. _Fuck no!You kidding me?Can you imagine how the internet would have a meltdown if Charlotte went missing?_

I’d poked my finger into the bend of his waist. _Stop it.No one has named parts of your fucking hair, Chalamet_.

_Bet._

We’d just stared each other down.

_You serious?_

More staring.

_Holy shit_.I could only huff a laugh. _Well, I guess it does have it’s own Twitter account, so…_

He’d smirked. _You know it_. Then he’d turned his head to the side. _Take something from the back_.

_And you’re sure this is all right?_

_I trust you_.

I’d skated my hand around the base of his skull, fondling the baby hair against his skin, pulling out lengths of this delicate undercoat while he’d steadied himself by clutching my ribcage with tight fingers.I hadn’t realized until I was back in my condo in California a day later that he’d left a crescent of purple dots on both sides of me.

By the time I made my choice and raised the clippers up behind him, Tim had been trembling, so I had paused, had given him that chance to change his mind. 

_Tim?_

Our eyes had locked, then a small nod before his had slipped closed.

The creak of the tiny scissors had seemed to echo in the silence.

And then he’d fallen against me, kissed me hard, his heart racing.

I’d put the scissors on the nightstand and held up my prize so he could see it.He’d cupped my hand with both of his, had let the whisk of it brush over his top lip, just as I’m doing right now. _I love you, Armie_ , he’d whispered and kissed my fingertips.

He’d bent to the floor and pulled up a bit of the thin ribbon from the box of the present he’d brought for me, and we had carefully traded items so that I could secure the ribbon around the severed curl.

He’d smiled at me then, almost shyly. _Hey, did we just tie the knot?_

_I think so_.I’d raised my eyebrow. _Didn’t think I’d be taking the plunge again so soon_.

_I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t—I don’t want you to think that_ —

I’d known he was blushing from the heat in his thighs.

_Tim_.I had run my fingers under his chin to force him to look at me. _The next time, you’d better be wearing a fucking awesome suit._

Tears had sprung instantly. _Really?You--you would actually want--?_

I’d pressed my hand flat against his chest. _In a heartbeat_.

What had happened after that is a blur.I know that long after we parted, I was still sore.I know that I had muscles aching in parts of my body that a hundred sessions with Farhoudi could never touch, and I hadn’t been able to wipe my ass very well for days.I know that Tim had a purpling bite mark on his chest and beard burn on his entire face.And on his inner thighs.I know that when we kissed each other goodbye, our lips were swollen and tender, and we’d giggled apologies into each other’s mouths.

I feel my phone buzz, so I slide the precious lock into the pocket of my jeans.I am flooded with warmth when I see Tim’s name flashed across the screen. 

<<Did you wear it?>>

I smirk and send him a middle finger emoji.

The present he’d bought for me for Christmas was, as he said, to support my time in the rugged wilderness.I’d pulled the jacket out of the box and stared at it. _Eddie Bauer??_

_Yeah, man!First time, Bear Grylls; next time, NatGeo!_ with a shit-eating grin I’d wanted to lick off his face.

<<Trust me—you know you look great in it. Fucking stud  😜 >>

Truthfully, it’s comfortable.And colorful.And I kind of love that when I put it on, it’s like I’m sliding into a warm hug.More sensations, all from him.<<Anything for you  😏 >>

<<You bring the other?>>

I bite my bottom lip.<<Is that a Timmy in my pocket, or am I just happy to see DiCaprio?>>

The driver clears his throat politely.“Mr. Hammer?We’ve arrived, sir.”

“Thank you, I really appreciate it.”I feel the car slow and swerve over to the curb.<<Gotta go>>

<<Stay away from Leo’s mouth  😡 Shit’s mine now  😎 >>

<<You won’t see a picture of me from this event with my hand not in my pocket.All I want is there>>

<<Call me tomorrow?>>

<< 👌 >>

<< ✌️😘 >>

**Author's Note:**

> If you've taken the time to read this, then I hope you'll be willing to tell me what you think and to check out some of my other stories! Thank you very much!


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